December 2009
8 posts
Morning - Frank O'Hara
brainiacamour:
I’ve got to tell you how I love you always I think of it on grey mornings with death in my mouth the tea is never hot enough then and the cigarette dry the maroon robe chills me I need you and look out the window at the noiseless snow At night on the dock the buses glow like clouds and I am lonely thinking of flutes I miss you always when I go to the beach the sand is wet with...
“i.
To uderstand
each other: anything
but that, & to avoid it
I will...”
– Atoowd, Their attitudes differ, Power Politics
“I am sitting on the
edge of the impartial
bed, I have been turned to crystal,...”
– Atwood, from Circle Games
“Last year I abstained
This year I devour
Without guilt
which is also an art”
– Atwood
